#elevator takeover

[get-em-pou]

We! Want! A! Team!

Aka, I got a little delusional tonight and made some silly logos for if the PWHL ever expanded to Denver. I am campaigning for the Denver Elevate/Elevation!!

[freshthoughts2020]

"THE LUKESHOW" oversized hoodie

2 Store Reviews

from $77.77

Welcome to THE LUKESHOW—a moment in NBA history turned into wearable art. Luka Doncic just touched down in purple & gold, and this oversized hoodie marks the beginning of his Lakers takeover.

The hand-drawn artwork captures Luka in his #77 Lakers jersey, mid-roar, bringing that hyped-up energy straight to LA. Flip it to the back, and the bold "WELCOME 77" lettering keeps the jersey feel intact while elevating it to streetwear status.

[instructionsonback]

"THE LUKESHOW" oversized hoodie

2 Store Reviews

from $77.77

Welcome to THE LUKESHOW—a moment in NBA history turned into wearable art. Luka Doncic just touched down in purple & gold, and this oversized hoodie marks the beginning of his Lakers takeover.

The hand-drawn artwork captures Luka in his #77 Lakers jersey, mid-roar, bringing that hyped-up energy straight to LA. Flip it to the back, and the bold "WELCOME 77" lettering keeps the jersey feel intact while elevating it to streetwear status.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Premature Internet Activists

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TOMORROW (Feb 14) in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and SATURDAY (Feb 15) for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

"Premature antifacist" was a sarcastic term used by leftists caught up in the Red Scare to describe themselves, as they came under ideological suspicion for having traveled to Spain to fight against Franco's fascists before the US entered WWII and declared war against the business-friendly, anticommunist fascist Axis powers of Italy, Spain, and, of course, Germany:

https://www.google.com/books/edition/In_Denial/fBSbKS1FlegC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22premature+anti-fascist%22&pg=PA277&printsec=frontcover

The joke was that opposing fascism made you an enemy of America – unless you did so after the rest of America had woken up to the existential threat of a global fascist takeover. What's more, if you were a "premature antifascist," you got no credit for fighting fascism early on. Quite the contrary: fighting fascism before the rest of the US caught up with you didn't make you prescient – it made you a pariah.

I've been thinking a lot about premature antifascism these days, as literal fascists use the internet to coordinate a global authoritarian takeover that represents an existential threat to a habitable planet and human thriving. In light of that, it's hard to argue that the internet is politically irrelevant, and that fights over the regulation, governance, and structure of the internet are somehow unserious.

And yet, it wasn't very long ago that tech policy was widely derided as a frivolous pursuit, and that tech organizing was dismissed as "slacktivism":

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Elevating concerns about the internet's destiny to the level of human rights struggle was delusional, a glorified argument about the rules for forums where sad nerds argued about Star Trek. If you worried that Napster-era copyright battles would make it easy to remove online content by claiming that it infringed copyright, you were just carrying water for music pirates. If you thought that legalizing and universalizing encryption technology would safeguard human rights, you were a fool who had no idea that real human rights battles involved confronting Bull Connor in the streets, not suing the NSA in a federal courtroom.

And now here we are. Congress has failed to update consumer privacy law since 1988 (when they banned video store clerks from blabbing about your VHS rentals). Mass surveillance enables everything from ransomware, pig butchering and identity theft to state surveillance of "domestic enemies," from trans people to immigrants. What's more, the commercial and state surveillance apparatus are, in fact, as single institution: states protect corporations from privacy law so that corporations can create and maintain population-scale nonconsensual dossiers on all the intimate facts of our lives, which governments raid at will, treating them as an off-the-books surveillance dragnet:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

Our speech forums have been captured by billionaires who censor anti-oligarchic political speech, and who spy on dissident users in order to aid in political repression. Bogus copyright claims are used to remove or suppress disfavorable news reports of elite rapists, thieves, war criminals and murderers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

You'd be hard pressed to find someone who'd describe the fights over tech governance in 2025 as frivolous or disconnected from "real politics"

This is where the premature antifascist stuff comes in. An emerging revisionist history of internet activism would have you believe that the first generation of tech liberation activists weren't fighting for a free, open internet – we were just shilling for tech companies. The P2P wars weren't about speech, privacy and decentralization – they were just a way to help the tech sector fight the entertainment industry. DRM fights weren't about preserving your right to repair, to privacy, and to accessibility – they were just about making it easy to upload movies to Kazaa. Fighting for universal access to encryption wasn't about defending everyday people from corporate and state surveillance – it was just a way to help terrorists and child abusers stay out of sight of cops.

Of course, now these fights are all about real things. Now we need to worry about centralization, interoperability, lock-in, surveillance, speech, and repair. But the people – like me – who've been fighting over this stuff for a quarter-century? We've gone from "unserious fools who mistook tech battles for human rights fights" to "useful idiots for tech companies" in an eyeblink.

"Premature Internet Activists," in other words.

This isn't merely ironic or frustrating – it's dangerous. Approaching tech activism without a historical foundation can lead people badly astray. For example, many modern tech critics think that Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes internet users liable for illegal speech acts, while immunizing entities that host that speech) is a "giveaway to Big Tech" and want to see it abolished.

Boy is this dangerous. CDA 230 is necessary for anyone who wants to offer a place for people to meet and discuss anything. Without CDA 230, no one could safely host a Mastodon server, or set up the long-elusive federated Bluesky servers. Hell, you couldn't even host a group-chat or message board:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Getting rid of CDA 230 won't get rid of Facebook or make it clean up its act. It will just make it impossible for anyone to offer an alternative to Facebook, permanently enshrining Zuck's dominance over our digital future. That's why Mark Zuckerberg wants to kill Section 230:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/zuckerberg-calls-changes-techs-section-230-protections-rcna486

Defending policies that make it easier to host speech isn't the same thing as defending tech companies' profits, though these do sometimes overlap. When tech platforms have their users' back – even for self-serving reasons – they create legal precedents and strong norms that protect everyone. Like when Apple stood up to the FBI on refusing to break its encryption:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple%E2%80%93FBI_encryption_dispute

If Apple had caved on that one, it would be far harder for, say, Signal to stand up to demands that it weaken its privacy guarantees. I'm no fan of Apple, and I would never mistake Tim Cook – who owes his CEOhood to his role in moving Apple production to Chinese sweatshops that are so brutal they had to install suicide nets – for a human rights defender. But I cheered on Apple in its fight against the FBI, and I will cheer them again, if they stand up to the UK government's demand to break their encryption:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c20g288yldko

This doesn't make me a shill for Apple. I don't care if Apple makes or loses another dime. I care about Apple's users and their privacy. That's why I criticize Apple when they compromise their users' privacy for profit:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

The same goes for fights over scraping. I hate AI companies as much as anyone, but boy is it a mistake to support calls to ban scraping in the name of fighting AI:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

It's scraping that lets us track paid political disinformation on Facebook (Facebook isn't going to tell us about it):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#quis-custodiet-ipsos-zuck

And it's scraping that let us rescue all the CDC and NIH data that Musk's broccoli-hair brownshirts deleted on behalf of DOGE:

https://www.cnet.com/tech/services-and-software/how-to-access-important-health-info-thats-been-scrubbed-from-the-cdc-site/

It's such a huge mistake to assume that anything corporations want is bad for the internet. There are many times when commercial interests dovetail with online human rights. That's not a defense of capitalism, it's a critique of capitalism that acknowledges that profits do sometimes coincide with the public interest, an argument that Marx and Engels devote Chapter One of The Communist Manifesto to:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

In the early 1990s, Al Gore led the "National Information Infrastructure" hearings, better known as the "Information Superhighway" hearings. Gore's objective was to transfer control over the internet from the military to civilian institutions. It's true that these institutions were largely (but not exclusively) commercial entities seeking to make a buck on the internet. It's also true that much of that transfer could have been to public institutions rather than private hands.

But I've lately – and repeatedly – heard this moment described (by my fellow leftists) as the "privatization" of the internet. This is strictly true, but it's even more true to say that it was the demilitarization of the internet. In other words, corporations didn't take over functions performed by, say, the FCC – they took over from the Pentagon. Leftists have no business pining for the days when the internet was controlled by the Department of Defense.

Caring about the technological dimension of human rights 30 years ago – or hell, 40 years ago – doesn't make you a corporate stooge who wanted to launch a thousand investment bubbles. It makes you someone who understood, from the start, that digital rights are human rights, that cyberspace would inevitably evert into meatspace, and that the rules, norms and infrastructure we built for the net would someday be as consequential as any other political decision.

I'm proud to be a Premature Internet Activist. I just celebrated my 23rd year with the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and yesterday, we sued Elon Musk and DOGE:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-sues-opm-doge-and-musk-endangering-privacy-millions

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/13/digital-rights/#are-human-rights

Image: Felix Winkelnkemper (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Acoustic_Coupler.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |1|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

You frowned as you looked down at your phone, there were a handful of unread texts to Tara that went unread. The last message she sent to you was a simple ‘I love you’ after you told her you had a late shift. She wasn’t completely ignoring you, but it was weird for Tara to not check her phone, especially since Sam, and you, to an extent, had been insistent on her responding regularly. You pocketed your phone and got back to work, you told yourself she was just studying, maybe the others came over and she got caught up hanging out with them.

You threw yourself into work for the next few hours. It was Friday night, the weekend of Halloween, the bar had been slammed since before your shift started. You had been in New York for about six months, you had quickly found a job at a bar, and Tara and her friends started school in the fall. The two of you juggled as best as you could, taking advantage when you were both off, but somehow it seemed like you saw each other less than before, even though now you were actually living together.

When your shift was finally over you clocked out and shoved your tips in your pocket. You stepped out of the bar, despite being well after midnight the city was still alive and thriving. You glanced at your phone one more time, Tara still hadn’t even opened your messages. You sighed and shoved your phone back in your pocket before making the trek back to the apartment. You sold your car when you got to the city to save on money and strictly took the subway or walked everywhere.

After half an hour you finally reached the apartment complex. You stomped up each staircase until you finally reached the top floor. As you got to the top you rested your hand on the railing and winced, you all agreed on the apartment, stairs were better than an elevator, and the top floor was the safest, but the stairs did your knee no favors. You held in a groan as you let go of the railing; despite being fully healed and the ongoing physical therapy, you accepted your knee would just never be back to a hundred percent.

You unlocked the various locks Sam installed as soon as the three of you moved in and stepped inside. You shoved your keys back in your pocket as you walked down the hall and into the living room. You heard Quinn in her room, hooking up with a guy, which was nothing new. You furrowed your brow as you looked around the room, the TV was off, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there all day.

“Tara!” you called out. You waited a second but there was no answer. You tried not to let your paranoia takeover, there were plenty of times you got home and Tara as up late studying, her headphones on, completely lost in the music.

You got an uneasy feeling as you walked down the hall to your shared room. The door was partially cracked, and you nudged it with your foot, letting it slowly swing open the rest of the way. You peeked your head in, not stepping fully into the room, when nothing happened you finally took a step in. You furrowed your brow, the bed was still made from when you left, Tara’s laptop was closed and sitting on her desk. Her backpack was sitting next to her desk chair, proving that she did in fact come home after class, but there was no sign of Tara.

You perked up when you heard the front door open. “Tara?” you called out again. It was late, but it was a Friday night, and she might have gone out with the others to get something to eat. “Tara?” you made your way back towards the living room. You paused when you didn’t see your girlfriend but Sam standing there.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam asked tiredly.

You cautiously stepped into the room; you had been living with Sam for about six months and had gotten pretty good at reading her moods. You and Sam were by no means best friends, probably wouldn’t even consider yourselves friends at all, but you both learned to tolerate each other. Sam’s mood was particularly grouching this night, and you didn’t think it had to do with Tara not being home.

“Did Tara mention anything about going out?” you asked. You tried to keep your tone nonchalant just in case Tara had messaged Sam and not you.

“She’s not here?” Sam shouted. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, there went your last strand of hope. “Quinn!” Sam brushed right past you without another glance. “Quinn!”

The noises from the other girl’s room quieted down and a moment later the door creaked open. Quinn came out of her room, still in the middle of pulling her shirt down. “Sorry,” she said. “Were we to loud?” she gestured back at her room.

“Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn opened and closed her mouth a few times. “She came home,” she nodded.

You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes at Quinn. “Where is she?” you asked.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party,” Quinn said hesitantly.

You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I begged her not to go to that!” Sam said.

You had been there for that conversation, if one could call it that, Tara had asked, Sam had said no, and Tara had started arguing. The argument ended like it always did, you trying to play peacekeeper and Tara storming off to the bedroom. You understood why Tara wanted to go to the party, it was her first year of college and it was probably the biggest frat party going on for Halloween, but you also didn’t disagree with Sam’s decision. You and Sam both worked late, you couldn’t go to the party with Tara, and you didn’t wany anything to happen to her.

“Did she at least take her taser?” Sam asked. You could see her visibly trying not to freak out. Sam had been overprotective, to say the least, ever since last year happened. Tara hadn’t been making it easy, but you could see Sam was truly trying to give her sister the space she desired.

“I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” Quinn answered.

You let out another sigh, even before Sam went and found said taser in the bowl on the table by the door you knew Tara hadn’t taken it. Out of all the things Sam asked of her you didn’t think carrying a taser around was too much. You were living in New York, anything could happen at any point in time, that wasn’t even considering the fact that all of you had survived a Ghostface attack. You felt like Tara just didn’t want to carry the taser because Sam wanted her to, just another way of Sam attempting to control her.

“I’m going to look for Tara,” Sam called out, grabbing her keys again.

“Wait,” you called out. “I’m coming with you.” You winced as you jogged to catch up to Sam.

Sam looked down at your knee and back up at you. “Do you need to grab your brace?”

You really wanted to, you probably needed to. You tried not to wear the brace too often; you didn’t want to become reliant on it. You only wore it when you were doing more strenuous activity than usual or if your knee was being particularly bothersome. “No time,” you waved her off. It would only take a moment to put on, but you didn’t want to stop when you had no idea if Tara was alright or not.

Sam hesitated a moment but eventually nodded. You and Sam didn’t exactly have deep and meaningful conversations, but she seemed to be the only one who noticed how much pain your knee caused you. Sam had actually been the one to buy you the brace. You had worked a long shift, your knee causing you more pain than usual after moving nonstop for hours when Sam tossed you the brace while you sat on the couch, your leg propped on the coffee table to rest it a bit.

You followed behind Sam on the way to the party, trying to keep up with her as best as you could. She finally slowed down when you got in front of a large house with music blasting and people spilling out of it. The door was already wide open when you and Sam walked in. Just as the two of you entered you saw some guy holding Tara by the arm and trying to drag her upstairs, with Chad quickly trying to interfere.

Before you could get to her Tara tripped at being dragged up the stairs and Chad yanked the other guy down. The man shoved Chad away and reached for Tara again, but Sam was right there and ready to tase him. Your eyes widened at the action, but you didn’t get a chance to dwell on it for long as Tara pushed past you and stormed out of the frat house.

“Wait,” you called out, quickly following after Tara. “Wait!” you winced as you sidestepped a drunk stumbling up the sidewalk.

“Tara!” Sam called out from behind you. You glanced back to see her and the others following behind.

“Can you just stop for a second?” you tried to ask as nice as possible. Tara was still walking away from all of you at full speed and at this rate she would soon lose you.

“Will you stop!” Sam snapped.

“I can’t believe you,” Tara snapped. She didn’t stop walking away but she slowed down enough to turn and look at Sam. “You just embarrassed me in front of everyone.”

“Come on,” Sam groaned. “That guy was a creep!”

“Nothing was going to happen!” Tara stopped, spinning around to finally face her sister.

“He was trying to take advantage of you!”

“Why do you care?”

You stepped back as Tara and Sam continued to argue back and forth. You eventually tuned them out, all their arguments started to sound the same when it was a weekly occurrence. You caught bits and pieces of the argument, Tara pointing out how Sam was gone for years and now that she was back couldn’t seem to leave Tara alone, while Sam kept trying to bring up seeing a councilor. You asked Tara about talking to a professional once and were quickly shut down, after that you dropped it. As much as you thought talking to someone would help Tara you didn’t want to force her, you just hoped that when she was ready, she’d come to you.

“I’m not going to let my life be defined by three days,” Tara snapped. Something about those particular words seemed to bring your focus back to the conversation.

When you looked up though Tara was already storming off. You jogged to catch up to her despite the protest of your knee. “Hey, look, I get it,” you started when you got to Tara’s side. “But don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

“You’re just as bad!” Tara whipped around, making you stop in your tracks. You tried not to flinch at her harsh tone, Tara and you disagreed on things but neither of you had ever raised your voice at each other.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stumbled over your words. Tara was drunk and this clearly wasn’t the time to try having this type of conversation, you just need to keep her calm and get back to the apartment safely. “We just worry about you.”

“Well stop!” That time you did actually flinch at her words. “What happened happened,” she gestured around. “It’s in the past!” she gestured widely with her hand. “I’m trying to move on with my life, you all need to too.”

This time when Tara turned and stormed away you didn’t rush to catch up to her. You stood there for a moment, replaying Tara’s words in your head as the others passed you, Anika giving your shoulder comforting squeeze as she went with Mindy and Chad to catch up with Tara. You watched them walk away, just glad that at least someone was close on the rest of the walk home since Tara wanted nothing to do with you and Sam at the moment.

You sulked the entire way home and up to the top floor of the apartment complex. You were the last one to arrive to the apartment, after Tara told you to back off you took your time, not wanting to put any more strain than necessary on your knee. When you got inside Chad, Mindy, Anika, and Ethan were all on the couch, while Sam was in the kitchen, and Tara was nowhere in sight.

You silently walked through the living room and towards the bathroom. You dug around the medicine cabinet and finally found a bottle of Advil. You went back to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before making your way to yours and Tara’s room. When you got to the door you gave a small knock.

“Come in,” came a whispered response.

You quietly opened the door and slipped into the room, making sure to shut the door behind you. “You don’t have to knock,” Tara said in a much softer tone than earlier. “It’s your room too.”

You walked further into the room and sat the water and Advil on the dresser. “Wasn’t sure what I was walking into,” you admitted. You leaned your back against the dresser, but your eyes were on the floor instead of Tara.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” she said kindly. “I just…” you glanced up to see her trying to gather her thoughts but quickly dropped your eyes back to the floor. “I don’t need you and Sam both being overprotective and always hovering over everything I do.” You could hear the slight irritation in her voice but unlike earlier she was trying not to snap at you.

“I’m fine,” she insisted again. “I just want to move on.” Tara stood up from the bed and made her way closer to you. “You’ve been different since the attacks last year.” You huffed out a laugh, you weren’t sure how you couldn’t possibly different after what happened. “I just want my girlfriend back,” Tara ran her hand down your arm until it was resting atop of your own hand. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Just three days,” you whispered, still not looking up at Tara.

“What?” Tara asked, you could hear the confusion in her voice.

“Just three days,” you looked up and stared right into her eyes. “That’s what you called it.” Tara furrowed her brow. “Just three days,” you gave a little shrug. “Do you know what I went through in those three days?”

Tears filled your eyes as you stared at Tara, waiting for her to answer you. She never did though, Tara remained silent, she didn’t need to answer you though, you knew she knew the answer to that question. “Within three days,” you continued. “My girlfriend was attacked.” This time it was Tara’s turn to drop her eyes to the floor. “I wasn’t there,” you shook your head. “I wasn’t there while the love of my life was lying there dying,” your voice cracked.

“Now, I get to spend the rest of my life hating myself for not being there,” you continued. “Every time I’m not with you, I worry about what could happen when I’m not there again.” Tara finally glanced up at you again. “Like tonight,” your voice got louder than intended, making Tara flinch ever so slightly. “I was at work, just like year,” you gestured, it wasn’t until this moment that you realized how similarly everything felt to last year. “When I got home, you weren’t here,” your voice almost cracked again. “And I got to run off with Sam to a frat party, only to see you being dragged up the stairs by some douchebag,” your voice got louder when you mentioned the guy from the party. “Once again, a reminder of what can happen when I’m not there,” you shook your head and let out a humorless chuckle.

You looked up at the ceiling as you tried to calm yourself down, willing the tears in your eyes to not fall. “I was also accused of murder last year,” you said without much emotion in your voice. “Accused of hurting you,” your voice cracked again at just the idea of someone thinking you’d ever hurt Tara. “By your friends. The only good thing to happen last year was that you didn’t believe them.” You looked back into Tara’s eyes again. “You never wavered on me.” You could see the love in Tara’s own tear-filled eyes as she clearly listened to every word. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt,” you whispered. “That on top of spending a year being told by your friends I wasn’t good enough for you and your sister coming back and instantly saying the same thing, is that every single one of them jumped on the idea of thinking I was the potential killer.”

You tried not to let it bother you at the time and even after, Tara had believed you and that was all that really mattered. No one ever apologized for accusing you though, even after it was revealed Amber was the one who was a psycho killer, not a single one of the others apologized to you. You didn’t expect an apology from Sam, you would have been more concerned if she did apologize actually. Chad and Mindy didn’t bother either though, you still weren’t close with them, though they had been a little nice to you since everything happened.

“Then on top of everything else,” you whispered. “Within those same three days, I learned who my parents were,” your voice cracked. “I spent my whole life thinking I was unloved, just tossed away like trash,” you gestured with your hand.

“Turns out, I’m the kid of two legacies,” you let out a humorless chuckle. “And my mom abandoned me because she chose her carer over me and my…” you trailed off as you choked on your words.

You cleared your throat and tried to distance any emotion you may have felt from what you were trying to say. “He was the nicest, most loving man there was, who would have done everything he could to be a good father, but he never even knew I existed,” your voice cracked despite your best efforts. “And when he found out.” Your eyes got distant as you remembered back to that day. “He never even got the chance to know me,” you whispered. “Because I pushed him away,” a single tear finally fell from your eyes. “Then he died.” You quickly wiped the tear away. “His last act was saving my life and then he died.”

Before Tara could say anything, you pushed yourself off the dresser and wiped the rest of the tears in your eyes as you walked around to your side of the bed. You grabbed your pillow and looked down, quietly debating if you needed to grab anything else. You shook your head and tucked the pillow under your arm then made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Tara asked, gently reaching for your arm before you could make it out of the room.

You sighed and turned to face Tara again. “I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. You didn’t wait for her to try apologizing or to talk you out of it, you simply turned on your heel and left the room without another word.

When you got back out to the living room you saw that, thankfully, everyone was gone, having gone home for the night. You dropped your pillow on the side of the couch you wanted to lay on then sat down. This would be the first night you didn’t sleep next to Tara since the attacks, you didn’t want this, but you felt it was needed. Tara wanted space and after tonight you needed time to clear your head, it was better this way.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I will be.” You truly believed that, you knew in your heart that you would be fine, that you and Tara would figure this out, the two of you just needed a small amount of distance, at least for a night to really think about everything. “Are you okay?” you looked over at Sam, suddenly remembering the look she had on her face when entering the apartment earlier.

Sam let out a humorless chuckle and took a seat at the dining table, that’s when you knew it wouldn’t be good. “I got fired.”

“From the diner?” Sam nodded and dropped her head in her hands. In the six months since all of you had gotten to New York Sam had been through several jobs; she was a decent employee it seemed, but something always came up that led to them letting her go.

“We’re looking for another bartender,” you offered. “If you’re interested.”

“You’re dating my little sister,” Sam said. “We live together and knowing I’m not your biggest fan, you seriously think working together is a good idea?”

You shrugged, Sam did sort of have a point. “The money is good.” That wasn’t going to stop from suggesting the idea though. “Besides, we’ll probably be on rotating days, except for when we’re busy,” you added. “We might actually see less of each other.”

Sam smiled at that, seeming to like the idea a little more. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she got up from the dining table and made her way to her own room.

You smiled to yourself then hit the light for the living room. You settled back down on the couch, this time stretching out to take up the whole area. You pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch and wrapped it around yourself. You laid your head back down against your pillow and silently hoped for a rare non-restless sleep as you closed your eyes. You tried not to think about anything that happened earlier and just focused on falling asleep.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998

[demie90s]

UConn x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Halftime Unleashed

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:At halftime of a heated UConn game, the big screen surprises everyone by cutting to locker room footage of the women bonding.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ:Sports drama, character revelation, team bonding, fan reaction

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Locker room footage, mild suggestive dancing, revealing clothing, fan frenzy, emotional overwhelm

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~1.2k

ᴠɪʙᴇ:Wait, that’s her? Push-ups with teammates clinging on. Mini-skirt twerking and wine-on

The arena lights dim just enough to draw attention to the jumbo screen. UConn is down by four with 1:02 left in the second quarter—halftime looming. The crowd’s restless, ready for a break in play. Suddenly, instead of the usual “Top Plays” montage, the screen flashes “UConn Locker Room Live.” Cut to a narrow hallway. You catch glimpses of the locker room door opening, the low hum of laughter. Then—

Video 1: “Push-Up Party”

The camera pans to reader in full UConn practice gear: tank top, shorts, pristine sneakers. She’s on all fours in plank position, face determined. On her lower back: Nika and KK perched like acrobats, holding onto each other’s arms to balance. Nika’s giggling, rubbery ponytail swinging; KK’s barking laughter muffled as she tries to stabilize. You see her shoulders shake with the effort. She lowers her chest nearly to the floor, then pushes up, lifting the two of them with ease. The scoreboard graphic in the corner counts reps—“15…16…17…” The announcer’s voice crackles through the speakers: “Did you see that? #17 just elevated our entire bench—literally.”

The camera zooms in on her face: intense, focused, not a hint of strain showing. Nika throws an arm around KK’s shoulders, trying to steady, and calls out, “More weight!” KK shouts, “You got two UConn benchwarmers on your back—no sweat?” She gives a quick grin to the camera, then dips down, pushing Nika and KK up one more time. The screen freezes on her mid-push-up ledge: jaw set, eyes burning with mischief and pride. The crowd gasps, then cheers, as if they just witnessed a highlight dunk. Teammates in the hallway clap, high-fiving. Then the video cuts.

Video 2: “Mini-Skirt Takeover”

Next: She in a tiny black mini skirt and a white crop top—completely out of uniform. She’s got full makeup: sultry winged eyeliner, red gloss, eyelashes glued long and fluttery. The locker room music is pumping. Paige stands in front of her, filming on her phone, smirking. KK stands just behind reader, arms crossed, trying but failing to look annoyed. The camera switches to angle where you see her hips sway from side to side. She’s twerking, low and hypnotic. Her skirt lifts just enough to show lace-trimmed boy shorts. Paige egges her on, shouting, “Drop it, baby, drop it!” She synchronizes her movement with the beat, eyes flashing at the camera. KK sashays in front of her to “win”, and reader’s expression shifts: she cups her hand around her ear like she can’t believe how good KK is at it. Then she turns back to Paige, dropping it again, all the while making direct eye contact with the camera—black lace choker bouncing.

Paige laughs so hard she stumbles back. KK, still wining, flicks a strand of hair over reader’s shoulder, smirking. She reaches out, grabs KK’s wrist, and pulls her onto her hips for a joined expansion of movement—KK tries to resist, but reader’s core strength holds her up. The bathroom stalls behind them tremble to the beat.

The announcer’s voice: “Ladies and gentlemen, #17 is not playing tonight, she’s hosting a dance party.” The screen pulses to the rim of the frame with a neon outline, mimicking a nightclub vibe.

Comments scroll across the bottom—“Who IS this girl?!” / “She’s taming UConn’s bench. Baddest one here.” Aaliyah from USC is shown on the big screen, jaw dropped, hands over mouth, as if she just saw a ghost.

Video 3: “Whistle Note Showdown”

Cut to: the locker room bench area. Ice, Azzi, and her stand in a loose circle. The trio holds karaoke mics—low-grade, borrowed from a frat party. The song playing is an a cappella instrumental of Ariana Grande’s “No Tears Left To Cry.” Ice is mid-melody, voice sultry but wavering; Azzi is next, belting her verse with fierce confidence.

Pause. The camera swings to reader: she steps forward, chest lifted, one hand on her hip, the other holding the mic at perfect angle. She inhales deeply, tilting her head back. When the track reaches the whistle note climax, her voice slices through: clean, piercing, effortless. It lingers.

You can see Ice’s wide-eyed surprise. Azzi’s fist pumping, stunned. A trainer who wandered in to refill water bottles. with bucket and brush in hand. The announcer’s voice roars through the PA, shimmying up the hallways: “Did you hear that? #17 just broke our sound system… Didn’t know she could… SING!”

The screen splits with live reaction shots: the audience at Gampel standing, stunned, wiping tears—some mouths forming an “O” shape in disbelief. (Dramatic I know)

⸻

Back in the arena, the crowd’s collective heartbeat thumps. The lights flicker back up. UConn players re-enter the court for the second half. She is stoic as ever: game face, no smudged mascara, breathing steady. But you can see the corner of her lips twitch as her teammates shoot her knowing grins.

The opposing coach—let’s say it’s Villanova tonight—tries to keep his squad composed at the break. They watch reader cross midcourt, ball tucked under arm. Some still have their jaws open. The Villanova players shoot sidelong glances as reader does a quick petition sign, “✌️,” to Ice and Azzi on the other side. Ice gives a half-bow, Azzi does a finger heart. Reader smirks, then zips off to the bench.

On her way, KK elbows her in the ribs, whispers, “Way to rock halftime, mom.” She rolls her eyes as Paige smacks her backside. Nika high-fives her. The energy on the bench is electric, like a secret language. The crowd? They’re still in shock, buzzing.

In the stands, the “Stoic Queen” posters get shredded. New signs appear: “She’s EVERYTHING” and “Give. Us. More. #17.” Fans chant her name before the ball is even in play. On the broadcast, the color commentator stumbles: “Folks, if you thought this was a simple college game—think again. We just witnessed a completely new dimension of #17. She’s a warrior, a dancer, a singer… and now the crowd is eating it up.”

⸻

Second Half Gameplay

She starts the second half. She’s locked in. But every time she touches the ball, the chant “Seventeen! Seventeen!” ripples around Gampel like a shockwave. Villanova’s guards stay glued to her, but you can see the distraction in their eyes. They flash back to that whistle note, that twerk video, that absurd push-up flex.

Midway through the third quarter, she rebounds a missed three, spins, and float-shoots—bank shot in. She turns to the rim as if daring it to reject her. The crowd erupts. She jogs back, chest up, a hint of a grin. In the opposite corner, you see the Villanova forward pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to recalibrate.

On the sidelines, Paige fist-bumps reader’s thigh as she subs out. She gives her the tiniest of nods, and then does a quick shimmy for the bench—an inside callback to that mini skirt dance. KK snorts, barely suppressing a laugh. Nika shoves her, “Stop showing off if you wanna play defense.” She winks at the camera, and the stadium breaks into raucous cheers.

⸻

Closing Moments and Crowd Reaction

Game ends—UConn wins by ten. But everyone knows the second half was just a sideshow to the halftime spectacle. Fans file out buzzing: “Did you see that twerking video?” “I’m never looking at #17 the same.” “She could drop a mixtape tomorrow.” Some clutch their heads in disbelief, others replay highlights on their phones, wildly texting friends, “She’s a whole mood.”

On the broadcast, they replay the three videos in quick succession—push-ups, twerk, whistle note—intercut with shots of the crowd losing their minds. The color commentator stammers, “I cannot believe what I’m seeing. This is not just a basketball game… it’s a performance art piece. Hashtag #17 is rewriting the rulebook.”

In the postgame interview tunnel, a young reporter hustles up to reader, microphone in hand: “Um, #17, first of all—those videos were insane. When did you pick up push-up horsepower, dance moves, and that—um���vocal range?”

She shrugs, hair still damp, face composed. “I do what I want. On court, I’m focused. Off court… we gotta have fun. UConn’s family. We bond how we wanna bond.”

The reporter blinks. “So… people might say you’re multi-talented?”

“Multi-talented and not sorry. And now, back to winning.” She turns and walks off, leaving the reporter gaping.

⸻

Aftermath in Locker Room

Back in the locker room, the energy shifts from high-octane to giddy. Ice grabs reader’s arm and drags her to a bench by the water cooler. “You saw their faces?” she laughs. “You broke them!”

Azzi is flipping through her phone, showing everyone video clips. “Look at the replay of your whistle note!” She hits play: her crystal-clear high register shattering silence. “I died.”

Nika approaches with two energy drinks. “Thought you were quiet,” she teases, handing one to reader. “Turns out you’re just hiding the receipts.”

KK flops beside reader. “I swear, if you don’t slow down with this, half these girls will de-commit by next week.”

She cracks open the drink, sipping. “Let ‘em try. I play for us.”

Paige appears with a roll of duct tape covered in scribbles: “Here. Sign this. It’s a new contract—mandatory halftime show.” She laughs. “Make it legal,” she says, scrawling her signature across the tape.

Coach Geno strides in, smoothing his polo. He looks at reader, musters half a grin. “We going to the finals because of your push-ups or because you can sing like a queen? Help me figure this out.”

“Coach, I’m a package deal. You can’t have one without the other.”

Geno just shakes his head, a fond exasperation on his face. “Alright then. Let’s get back to work—before you make us lose our minds.”

⸻

Fan Social Media Frenzy

Later that night, the hashtag #HalftimeUnleashed is trending. Videos of her push-up feat are compiled side by side with clips of her twerking and belting. Twitter explodes: “She’s the entire WNBA MVP in disguise!” “UConn’s secret weapon is a killer DJ lineup.” Instagram fans comment, “Stop hiding this queen!” TikTok collages surface: one user superimposes the whistle note over a viral cat meme, another remixes the twerk video with trap beats. The campus is alive—students heading to a late-night watch party replay, cappuccinos and popcorn in hand, still cheering when that whistle note hits.

⸻

Final Beat: Teammate Reflections

Back in the dorms, #17 returns to her room, peeling off her gear. Late-night texts flood from teammates:

Azzi: Yo, your voice… never knew you had it in you.

Ice: Stop. I can’t breathe.

KK: I need you to accept my hug requests for the next month.

Nika: Don’t make me have to carry you around every practice.

Paige: We should charge admission for that halftime show.

Family, remember: I’m always full-package. Goodnight.

She sets her phone down, sits on the edge of her bed, and stares at the ceiling with a slow smile. For once, being more than just “the stoic one” feels exactly right.

————————————————————————————————

@draculara-vonvamp

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Joyce Vance at Civil Discourse:

Is it really a coup if it doesn’t feel like one? If your day-to-day life hasn’t changed? Can it be a coup if I can still write posts like this? What we’ve seen over the last two weeks and accelerating over the weekend looks like a coup, a hostile, undemocratic takeover of government. Merriam-Webster says a coup is “a sudden decisive exercise of force in politics and especially the violent overthrow or alteration of an existing government by a small group.” No violence so far because this is a coup fueled by tech bros, not the military. But we’re watching the alteration of government happen before our eyes. Historian Ruth Ben-Ghiat calls it “a new kind of coup,” writing in Lucid about Elon Musk’s seeming power sharing with Trump: “And here is where the U.S. 2025 situation starts to look different. The point of personalist rule is to reinforce the strongman. There is only room for one authoritarian leader at the top of the power vertical. Here there are two.” It is unusual, but it is still an effort to use extra-legal, undemocratic practices to radically alter American democracy, undoing the balance of power the Founding Fathers established between the three branches of government by consolidating power in the hands of the presidency as a complacent, Republican-led Congress looks on.

Monday night, Heather Cox Richardson started her nightly column by explaining that if Republicans wanted to do away with the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), the federal agency the Trump administration suddenly shuttered over the weekend, they could do that legally. Republicans now control the White House and Congress. There is a 6-3 majority of justices appointed by Republican presidents on the Supreme Court. But instead of doing it lawfully, with Congress passing a bill for Donald Trump to sign, Richardson writes, “They are permitting unelected billionaire Elon Musk, whose investment of $290 million in Trump and other Republican candidates in the 2024 election apparently has bought him freedom to run the government, to override Congress and enact whatever his own policies are by rooting around in government agencies and cancelling those programs that he, personally, dislikes.”

Richardson concluded: “The replacement of our constitutional system of government with the whims of an unelected private citizen is a coup. The U.S. president has no authority to cut programs created and funded by Congress, and a private citizen tapped by a president has even less standing to try anything so radical.” So, “coup” is the correct way to label the transformation of government we are living through. But with so much continuing normally, it’s easy to doubt what you’re seeing. Even experiencing it from the perspective of historians who understand this moment through the lens of history, it doesn’t seem quite real.

[...] Why damage the American experiment as we near the celebration of its 250th anniversary? Connecticut Democratic Senator Chris Murphy had some thoughts about that as he joined his colleagues outside of USAID’s closed offices on Monday. Suggesting this was not the time to pull punches, he called it a move to benefit the oligarchs who lined the front rows at Trump’s inauguration. “Elon Musk makes billions of dollars based off of his business with China. And China is cheering at [the destruction of USAID]. There is no question that the billionaire class trying to take over our government right now is doing it based on self-interest: their belief that if they can make us weaker in the world, if they can elevate their business partners all around the world, they will gain the benefit.” Senator Murphy also suggested that by closing agencies and cutting back the federal workforce, conservatives could “create the illusion they’re saving money” while they pass giant tax cuts that would benefit “billionaires and corporations.” Sunday night, I called it a coup as well, writing in exasperation that “Musk and his crew of men barely out of their teens haven’t taken an oath to serve, and they are not accountable to the public. They are not a ‘Department’ of anything. They’re a private army that has taken over. Presidents can set up private advisory groups, but they have to function according to the rules, which include transparency. That’s not what’s happening here.” Worse still, there is little reason to believe that what starts in USAID, Treasury, and the FBI won’t continue to spread to other agencies that are in disfavor with Trump and Musk.

This Joyce Vance column lays it all out: Elon Musk’s coup feels like a coup in a lot of senses.

See Also:

The Present Age (Parker Molloy): The Media Is Missing the Story: Elon Musk Is Staging a Coup

Slate: Elon Musk’s Power Grab Is Lawless, Dangerous, and—Yes—a Coup

Tristan Snell: Trump already broke the law 23 times?!

[mariacallous]

It feels like no one should have to say this, and yet we are in a situation where it needs to be said, very loudly and clearly, before it’s too late to do anything about it: The United States is not a startup. If you run it like one, it will break.

The onslaught of news about Elon Musk’s takeover of the federal government’s core institutions is altogether too much—in volume, in magnitude, in the sheer chaotic absurdity of a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” helping the world’s richest man consolidate power. There’s an easy way to process it, though.

Donald Trump may be the president of the United States, but Musk has made himself its CEO.

This is bad on its face. Musk was not elected to any office, has billions of dollars of government contracts, and has radicalized others and himself by elevating conspiratorial X accounts with handles like @redpillsigma420. His allies control the US government’s human resources and information technology departments, and he has deployed a strike force of eager former interns to poke and prod at the data and code bases that are effectively the gears of democracy. None of this should be happening.

It is, though. And while this takeover is unprecedented for the government, it’s standard operating procedure for Musk. It maps almost too neatly to his acquisition of Twitter in 2022: Get rid of most of the workforce. Install loyalists. Rip up safeguards. Remake in your own image.

This is the way of the startup. You’re scrappy, you’re unconventional, you’re iterating. This is the world that Musk’s lieutenants come from, and the one they are imposing on the Office of Personnel Management and the General Services Administration.

What do they want? A lot.

There’s AI, of course. They all want AI. They want it especially at the GSA, where a Tesla engineer runs a key government IT department and thinks AI coding agents are just what bureaucracy needs. Never mind that large language models can be effective but are inherently, definitionally unreliable, or that AI agents—essentially chatbots that can perform certain tasks for you—are especially unproven. Never mind that AI works not just by outputting information but by ingesting it, turning whatever enters its maw into training data for the next frontier model. Never mind that, wouldn’t you know it, Elon Musk happens to own an AI company himself. Go figure.

Speaking of data: They want that, too. DOGE agents are installed at or have visited the Treasury Department, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Small Business Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department of Labor. Probably more. They’ve demanded data, sensitive data, payments data, and in many cases they’ve gotten it—the pursuit of data as an end unto itself but also data that could easily be used as a competitive edge, as a weapon, if you care to wield it.

And savings. They want savings. Specifically they want to subject the federal government to zero-based budgeting, a popular financial planning method in Silicon Valley in which every expenditure needs to be justified from scratch. One way to do that is to offer legally dubious buyouts to almost all federal employees, who collectively make up a low-single-digit percentage of the budget. Another, apparently, is to dismantle USAID just because you can. (If you’re wondering how that’s legal, many, many experts will tell you that it’s not.) The fact that the spending to support these people and programs has been both justified and mandated by Congress is treated as inconvenience, or maybe not even that.

Those are just the goals we know about. They have, by now, so many tentacles in so many agencies that anything is possible. The only certainty is that it’s happening in secret.

Musk’s fans, and many of Trump’s, have cheered all of this. Surely billionaires must know what they’re doing; they’re billionaires, after all. Fresh-faced engineer whiz kids are just what this country needs, not the stodgy, analog thinking of the past. It’s time to nextify the Constitution. Sure, why not, give Big Balls a memecoin while you’re at it.

The thing about most software startups, though, is that they fail. They take big risks and they don’t pay off and they leave the carcass of that failure behind and start cranking out a new pitch deck. This is the process that DOGE is imposing on the United States.

No one would argue that federal bureaucracy is perfect, or especially efficient. Of course it can be improved. Of course it should be. But there is a reason that change comes slowly, methodically, through processes that involve elected officials and civil servants and care and consideration. The stakes are too high, and the cost of failure is total and irrevocable.

Musk will reinvent the US government in the way that the hyperloop reinvented trains, that the Boring company reinvented subways, that Juicero reinvented squeezing. Which is to say he will reinvent nothing at all, fix no problems, offer no solutions beyond those that further consolidate his own power and wealth. He will strip democracy down to the studs and rebuild it in the fractious image of his own companies. He will move fast. He will break things.

[dostoyevsky-official]

Doge v USAid: how Elon Musk helped his acolytes infiltrate world’s biggest aid agency

USAid security personnel were defending a secure room holding sensitive and classified data in a standoff with “department of government efficiency” employees when a message came directly from Elon Musk: give the Doge kids whatever they want.

Since Donald Trump’s inauguration last month, a posse of cocksure young engineers answering to Musk have stormed through Washington DC, gaining access to government computer systems as part of what Senator Chuck Schumer has called “an unelected shadow government … conducting a hostile takeover of the federal government”.

Some US officials had begun calling the young engineers the “Muskovites” for their aggressive loyalty to the SpaceX owner. But some USAid staff used another word: the “incels”.

[...] The Guardian has identified three calls by Musk to USAid’s political leadership and security officers in which he demanded the suspensions of dozens of the agency’s leading officials, and cajoled and threatened senior USAid officials to give his acolytes private data and access to restricted areas. At one point, he threatened to call in the US Marshals Service.

One USAid employee said that the calls by Musk, two of which have not been previously reported, showed he had effectively usurped power at the agency even from the Trump administration’s political leadership. “Who is in control of our government?” the person said. “[Doge] basically showed up and took over.”

Security staff initially rebuffed the engineers’ efforts to talk their way into the secure rooms, called sensitive compartmented information facilities (Scifs), because they didn’t have the necessary security clearances. But that evening, Musk phoned a senior official at USAid to demand access for his subordinates, the first of numerous calls to officials and employees of Doge at USAid that have continued into this week.

[...] Inside the building, chaos reigned. Areas that were once declared restricted, with limitations on electronics such as phones and watches, suddenly loosened their security protocols to allow in uncredentialed outsiders. Doge employees were said to obscure their identities to prevent online harassment, a tactic that was repeated at other agencies. And Peter Marocco, the controversial new director of foreign assistance at the state department, was stalking the halls and meeting in private with the Doge employees.

By Friday, things had gone further downhill. After a tense all-hands meeting with senior staff, and outsiders in the sixth-floor conference room, the young engineers rushed around the offices with their laptops, plugging cords into computers and other electronics as they gathered data from the agency.

[...] The argument over access to the Scif had grown verbally heated and senior Doge staff threatened to call in US marshals to gain access to it. During that standoff, according to one account made to the Guardian, a call was again made to Musk, who, as Bloomberg first reported, repeated the threat to involve the US Marshals Service.

Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear.

“It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.”

People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added.

“I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.”

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fifteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: Will I remain posting regularly? That remains to be seen by everyone, myself included....Because every single time I say something, I end up accidentally not posting for weeks. Anyways, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

“Where are you going?” 

A full day had passed since y/n found the picture in the elevator, and she half-expected Bruce’s voice to be a dream when she turned around. She hadn’t slept much, except for a brief few hours where her body literally had shut down and forced her into unconsciousness. Fear was her constant companion, but now, when she turned to see Bruce standing behind her with his arms crossed, anger cut through the fog of fear like a spear of flame. 

She mirrored his stance and crossed her own arms. “I’m going to let it slide since we’re all stressed, but try to boss me around again and see what happens.” 

Both of their jaws were clenched tightly shut. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. She could practically hear the words come out of his mouth, That’s not an answer. 

“I asked Gordon to come up,” she finally said, caving, though the anger still simmered below the surface. The nerve that Bruce Wayne had to barely be home, to barely care about her, and still try to boss her around all the same. She was this close to punching him in the face or pushing him down the stairs. Or maybe she would pour ice cubes in his bed next time he was asleep. “And if you’re going to bother me every single time I’m next to the fucking elevator, think again.”

Bruce relaxed marginally, completely ignoring her barbed comment–which was probably for the best. She had no energy left to really fight, anyways. 

Most of that energy had gone towards a preliminary article she had just submitted about the Gallo family. She hadn’t released any details about her involvement with them, merely reporting the fact that they were trying to make a move on Gotham. 

She had debated doing the article at all. Was it better to pretend like nothing was happening? Was it better to keep her head down and wait for it to resolve itself, whether because of Gordon and the Batman or through the Gallos finally getting to her? 

But then she realized that the people of Gotham deserved the truth, or at least as much of it she could get away with. She was already a target, but she didn’t need everyone else knowing that. 

So she had simply decided to send an article to print that Gotham was on the brink of another mob takeover, just like all of the business with Falcone and Maroni and everyone else who had corrupted their city. 

If only half of the city shared her views, y/n knew that they wouldn’t be happy with someone else trying to worm their way into their city. Gotham might be a shithole, but it was their shithole. 

The moment she had hit send, it had hit her. 

She didn’t want to be a sitting duck. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted those bastards gone. She wanted the work Bella Real and the Batman and cops like Gordon had done in the last year to stick–or at least have the chance of doing so. 

She had called Gordon, told him she wanted to talk over some things, that she needed company anyways. 

And now there she was, staring down the man who had broken her heart, waiting on Gordon to arrive on the elevator behind her. 

“Gordon and I are going to have a private conversation,” she said pointedly as the elevator doors slid open behind her. 

“Y/n,” Gordon said in greeting, but she still didn’t turn around. She and Bruce were still in the middle of their standoff. “Mr. Wayne. Good to see you again, at least under more…normal circumstances than last time.” 

She raised an eyebrow at Bruce. She could tell he wanted to argue, wanted to stick around and stick his nose even further into her business. But after a long silence, he inclined his head and said, “Detective,” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come. 

Once Bruce was safely out of earshot, she gave Gordon her full attention and said what had been on her mind the past couple of hours. Or, if she was being completely honest, the past several days.

“I want you to use me as bait, and I don’t want you to argue about it. I want you to help me actually figure out how to get rid of these motherfuckers.” She crossed her arms again for good measure.  

Gordon sighed, long and loud. She expected an argument or a lecture or a combination of the two. But instead, all he said was, “We better bring our other friend into this discussion.” 

–

“Absolutely not,” was the very first thing the Batman said when she laid out her plan. 

“Yeah, well, as I like to point out to certain other people in my life, you’re not the boss of me. I’m going to do something stupid with or without your help, because I am fucking sick of this. Alright? I can’t live like this.” She shivered as a particularly brutal gust of wind cut through her. 

They were on top of the signal tower. She and Gordon had decided together that it was easier to smuggle her out than it would be to smuggle Batman in. Besides, she didn’t want those two parts of her life mixing. God forbid Bruce find out what she was up to. She was arguing with him enough already. 

Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Alfred, or cause him any more stress than she already had. 

The smuggling had taken a willing female detective–a nice woman in her late thirties name Lori Ayers–trading places with y/n. They were relatively the same height and build luckily enough, and Detective Ayers was already assigned to the security on Wayne Tower. An outfit switch, a fake detective badge, and lots of praying later, and there they were. Y/n had asked Gordon and Ayers if she could have a gun, but both of them had practically shouted no in her face. 

Gordon held up his hands, ever the peacekeeper. “Listen, man, I’m not saying we should put her in any unnecessary danger, but–” 

“The whole idea is unnecessary danger!” The Batman cut in. His voice echoed in the darkness of the night around them. 

Gordon continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “–but all I’m saying is that we aren’t any closer to catching these guys. None of us are. So if we can do something we know will draw them out…why not do it?” Gordon gave her a wry look. “And, like she said, it’s probably better to have us for backup before she does anything stupid on her own.” 

Y/n gave Batman a triumphant look as if to say See? I’m right. 

She studied him while he worked his jaw in annoyance. Was he sick of looking out for her? Because she was certainly sick of needing to be looked out for. She wanted to end it. 

“Fine,” he said, the word a growl he spat out. She tried to resist pumping her fist in the air, she really did. He gave her a Look with a capital L that had her lowering it immediately. “But let me just–let me follow this last lead, alright? If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll make a plan. Give me tonight before you do anything stupid.” 

She nodded eagerly. “Great, fine. I needed to get out of the house anyway.” Gordon was also giving her a Look. “What?” she said a bit defensively. 

“You’re awfully upbeat for someone who wants to offer herself up for bait to the mob.” He raised one dark eyebrow above the frames of his glasses. 

She shrugged. “Well, I have cabin fever, so this helped my mood immensely. Plus, the end is in sight. It’s about to be over, one way or another.” 

Later, when she thought back to that moment, she would wonder if she had jinxed it. Or maybe she was simply jinxed all along, one thing leading to another, leading to its inevitable end. Leading to the only possible way it could play out. Her luck, ever since stepping foot back in Gotham–and even before then, ever since Alfred had knocked on her apartment door–had been nonexistent. 

“One last lead,” Batman repeated, holding her gaze steadily for once. Something ran through her like an electric current at that look. Like he was trying to tell her something. 

“One last lead,” she said, crossing her heart for good measure. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Gordon chuckled like he didn’t quite believe her. “Alright, let’s get back.” 

“I’ll follow you,” Batman said, interrupting her thoughts of how she was going to get Gordon to sneak her past Bruce and Alfred both. She hadn’t told either of them she was leaving, and she didn’t want to think about what they would say to her if they found out. It would only make her life that much harder. 

Her ride back with Gordon was mostly quiet. 

“Where did you get this fake badge anyways?” she asked when Wayne Tower’s doors finally came into view. She toyed with it, noting all the ways it looked like the real deal. Maybe she could hold onto it…just in case. 

“Confiscated it from a kid caught forging all kinds of stuff, including badges she used to get classified materials.” 

She. Interesting. Sounded like somebody y/n would like to hang out with. 

She didn’t say any of that out loud, however. All she did was hum and put the badge back on her belt. 

“And no, I won’t give you her name,” Gordon said. Their eyes met and they both laughed in tandem. 

“Fine, fine. I might be able to find it on my own anyway.” She winked. 

They parked in an alley where Gordon or the other detectives on stakeout duty usually parked. As they stepped out into the cold air, Gordon’s phone rang. 

“Just a second,” he said, stepping further towards the mouth of the alley. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” He pointed at threatening finger at her. She held up both hands in surrender. 

He needn’t have worried–the sound of an approaching motorcycle reached her ears as Batman pulled into the alley behind them. The noise reverberated off of the building walls for a moment before abruptly shutting off. Gordon locked eyes with him, inclined his head, and then answered the phone while striding towards the street ahead. 

“So,” she said casually to Batman as he stood broodily in the shadows. “Think I could have been a detective in another life?” She struck a little pose in her smart, borrowed business suit and trench coat, imagining the fake badge glinting in the low light. 

Batman made a noise that could have been a scoff or a laugh. “Sure, except you would have been fired for repeatedly breaking the rules. And laws.” 

She laughed delightedly. “You’re probably right.” She definitely had chosen the only profession that suited her nosiness and penchant for getting into trouble, something Bruce had pointed out years ago. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

They were closer together than she expected, the toes of their shoes almost touching. She wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was if they had both been drawn in by the other’s gravity, invisible and inevitable. He stared down at her for a moment before, of course, turning his face away. 

“There you go again,” she murmured as she memorized the line of his jaw. “Scared to look me in the eyes.” She reached out and poked his stubbled cheek gently. He froze, but didn’t make a move to step away. 

“I’m scared for you,” he said in an equally soft voice that sent shivers over her skin. “I don’t want you to have to offer yourself up. I don’t like thinking that I might not be able to keep you safe.” 

Y/n felt each of his words sink into her like rocks in a deep lake, sinking down and down and down until they settled at the bottom, heavy in her stomach. She was staring up at him now, their breath mingling, and he was finally, finally looking back. 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

Instead, she did the next best thing. 

She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. 

He went so still she immediately knew she had overstepped–and had overstepped badly. She quickly pulled away, face on fire, eyes straining to find anything to look at other than the rejection in his eyes. Stupid, that was so stupid. Just because he wanted her safe didn’t mean that he wanted her to kiss him. 

But before she got too far, his gloved hand caught her arm and tugged her closer. And then he was kissing her.

She inhaled deeply, her stomach doing somersaults in a way it had never done before. She was flying above Wayne Tower yet still somehow firmly rooted to the ground. It was like she could finally breathe again and yet somehow she was gasping for breath. His lips were gentle. One of his hands cupped her elbow while the other splayed across her upper back. She wished he had his gloves off, like that moment in another alley on another night. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. 

Then he was gone, a full step away. 

She couldn’t help it–her fingers traced her lips in a daze. 

They were staring at each other, both breathing slightly heavier than they had been before. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Gordon called from behind her somewhere. She couldn’t bring it within herself to care if he had seen or not. Her and the Batman were still staring at each other, in their own world, a seismic shift between them. 

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice low and raspy with want. 

“Be safe,” was all the Batman said as he watched her go. 

Gordon didn’t look at her like he had just seen them kissing, but she felt as if it were written all over her face. 

“Crime never sleeps,” he said to her as they walked the short distance to the doors. His head was constantly swiveling, searching for danger, and she knew a certain vigilante was watching from the shadows as well. 

Her entire body was electric, every nerve ending on fire, heat settling in her face and chest and lower, too. 

For once, she wasn’t wondering about who the Batman was. Her mind had been rendered totally blank by one kiss. She wasn’t even thinking about how he wasn’t Bruce Wayne, like every other kiss of her life. 

Instead it simply felt…right. 

She blinked and they were somehow inside. 

“Blake, can you escort Detective Ayers upstairs? I have to go to a crime scene.” Gordon gave Blake a long, searching look. Y/n knew that the moment the security guard looked up, he would recognize her. 

Sure enough, he did. His face did something complicated before he realized what Gordon said and stammered out, “S-sure. This way, Detective, um, Ayers.” He hit something on the computer keyboard, scrambling, having to hit whatever button it was a second time. 

“See you later,” Gordon said to her, the words full of meaning. 

She turned towards him and nodded. “Goodnight.” 

It felt stupid, pretending to be someone else in the lobby of her home, but they still didn’t know who had breached security two nights earlier. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry, but Blake knew who she was. What was to stop whoever worked for the Gallos from recognizing her as well? She imagined their pub, Maverick’s, covered in hundreds of stalkery photos of her. 

Gordon waved over his shoulder as she and Blake stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, y/n relaxed a bit. Everything was almost over. 

And she had kissed the Batman.

A smile grew on her face before she could stop it. 

When she glanced up, Blake was watching her. 

His upper lip and his hairline were beaded with sweat and he was much paler than normal. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was sick. Something in her gut shivered with warning. 

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.” 

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

Next Chapter

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[bitchymanlet]

Is Erwin Leftist or Fascist?

I'm basically expanding on what I've already posted on twitter about this.

The fandom seems to be pretty split on whether Erwin would be a Jaegerist or not—I've even seen fans going so far as to say he'd be a Trump supporter in the modern day. These could just be trolls or ignorant teenagers (both?) spewing this bs, but let's be clear,

Overthrowing the government does not indicate leftist or right-wing policy.

One of the most common rebuttals I see to the argument that Erwin is fascist is: "But he overthrew the government!" My guess is they think of revolutions by the people, such as the French and Russian ones, which were progressive, left-wing. But fascists do hostile takeovers too, such as the Blackshirts in Italy, and the January 6th Insurrection (the latter being a failed attempt at one).

Instead of using Erwin's staged coup as evidence that he is leftist, let's look into the reasons why he's Not Fascist.

He values intellectualism. We see in the text that Erwin supports and sees the value in Hange's titan research, and he believes the people deserve to know the truth, ie freedom of press—he was kept in the dark about the truth of their world, and he spent his whole life seeking the truth so that it could be shared with everyone. Fascists don't want thinkers, they want obedience.

Erwin allows those below his station to speak and think freely. We see how Levi, his subordinate, speaks to him informally and to other high-ranking military officials right in front of Erwin, but Erwin doesn't reprimand him or even punish him for his transgressions, because he respects him (an uneducated riffraff from the underground) as an equal. He allows 15 year old fresh out of the Cadet Corps Armin to speak up about his hunches, make suggestions, and he even let Armin give more experienced Scouts orders during their most pivotal battle in the history of the Survey Corps. He encourages his Scouts to question what they're fighting for and who their true enemies are rather than flat-out telling them. Unlike Fascists, he doesn't seem to enforce social hierarchy or genetic superiority of any kind.

He doesn't demonize The Other or motivate his soldiers with fear. He's doesn't rally his soldiers by proclaiming that humans are superior to titans and that they must crush them to assert humanity's dominance and superiority—he doesn't possess a hatred for titans like Eren does. He sees them more as obstacles to finding the truth. A core belief to fascists is proving that they are the chosen ones who will beat down the inhuman degenerates beneath them. He shows no sense of innate superiority.

We can't say for sure if he would be a Jaegerist because he died before all of that, but it is extremely unlikely given his aforementioned anti-fascist qualities. Why would he ever fall for Eren and Zeke's plot? Erwin is certainly smarter than Eren, but Zeke is a competent leader and strategist himself. However, what Zeke lacks that Erwin didn't is Hope. Erwin didn't give up on humanity like Zeke did, instead he valued and sought after knowledge. He saw failures and tragedies as learning opportunities and steps to a better outcome. Suffice it to say, he's not hateful or nihilistic enough to be on either of the Jaeger brothers' side, he'd think of a better solution than revenge or no babies.

So we can deduce that he is not a Fascist.

But is he a Leftist?

Back to the coup de'tat, Erwin staged it not to subjugate civilians, execute his opposers and instate military rule (what fascists do), but to live on to find the truth. That was it. Being a Scout granted him the freedom to venture outside of the walls and to learn more about their world and about the titans. If the Survey Corps dissolved and he got hanged, then the truth would possibly never come to light. The previous government would execute people for trying to leave and seek the truth. Erwin elevating Historia as the rightful monarch and, as a result, the people learning that the former monarch was a fake and that they have been lied to was just a nice bonus. Not why he did it.

There's little evidence for his personal political beliefs, as much of his character arc revolves around him Getting Closer To The Truth. If he were a leftist, he would show support for the common man's struggle and a disdain for the ruling class (like woke class-conscious king Levi). If his coup were politically motivated (in a progressive way), he would have started a revolution to free the people from the king's tyranny, he might have even called for the eradication of the crown altogether and touted democracy and the redistribution of wealth. Instead, he showed uncertainty and remorse for his coup, not confidence that he'd done the right thing for humanity's sake.

Again, Erwin was only saving his own skin so that he could find out what was in Eren's basement. He didn't feel strongly about dismantling the system and creating a more equitable government, which would be leftist. Rather, he feels more comfortable with upholding the status quo while also maintaining individual liberty.

Ergo, based on canon events, I don't think Erwin is a leftist or a fascist, I think he's a liberal.

[freshthoughts2020]

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[danganronpadedication]

DAY 12: DANGANTOBER

Day 12: Remnants of Despair

AT LAST, AT LONG, LONG LAST! IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIZED HAS COME TO PASS! THE DAY HAS COME! I FINALLY GET TO RANT ABOUT THE REMNANTS! Hats off to you if you know what I was referencing just now, lol.

I've said this a lot, but I really love the Remnants of Despair. They're my favorite part of the Danganronpa story, and I think they're criminally underused. There's just so much potential to explore and work with, and it's something that plagues my mind 24/7. Their designs are awesome, their psychology is interesting, and further exploring them not only paints a more detailed picture of the characters, but of the Danganronpa world as a whole. In this post, I'll be talking about EVERYTHING, from what they did, to how they look, whatever comes to mind, really.

For those of you who have forgotten the details of the Remnants, never played or watched UDG, or just never watched the episodes of the anime where we get information about them, here's a recap.

So, hopefully everyone reading this is familiar with the cast of SDR2. That group of students are the ones who go on to become the Remnants of Despair (+Hajime, even though he was just a reserve course student at the time). While they were at Hope's Peak, they rarely hung out with one another. Their teacher, Chisa Yukizome, rounded up everybody and made them start coming to class so they could form connections with each other. This class of students consisted of Teruteru, Peko, Mahiru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan, Gundham, Nekomaru, Nagito, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, Kazuichi, Akane, and Imposter pretending to be a character named Ryota Mitarai (who will be discussed later in this post). After a few days of knowing each other, and a certain soup-related incident that I will not ruin this post with, Chiaki is named as the class representative.

As each day passed by, the class grows closer together, and closer to people outside of class as well. Chiaki makes friends with Hajime, and Mikan finds out about the real Ryota, and about Junko and Mukuro. Junko uses Mikan as a test subject for her despair video, and it works on her. She doesn't show up to class anymore, and one day, someone spots her on campus, so everyone goes searching for her. Nagito and Chiaki stumble across a hidden passageway, where they find Junko and Izuru. Nagito is injured in the interaction, and Chisa provides a distraction for the two of them to get away.

I fear I am jealous of Nagito here lmao. Chiaki and Nagito go back to the rest of the class, who found Mikan, and they all decide to go back for Chisa. Meanwhile, Junko has already brainwashed Chisa, and her master plan is set into motion. The class walks through the secret passageway, and Mikan separates Chiaki from everyone else. Chiaki runs into Chisa, who leads her to an elevator that takes her to a dungeon-like obstacle course, full of spikes and boulders. She must escape to get back to her friends, and Chiaki actually manages to reach the end. Unfortunately, she's been tricked, and she gets impaled by multiple spikes, dying from her injuries in a scene I will never forget.

The others are shown the footage of her death, and they begin to feel despair over the traumatic loss of their friend. Taking advantage of their anguish, Junko begins to play her despair video for the class, brainwashing them into Ultimate Despairs, who are then let loose to cause chaos in the world. The next time we hear about them as an active group, it's at Makoto's hearing for disobeying the Future Foundation to help them. There, we get this picture.

Whoever designed them ate, I fear. As the Remnants of Despair, they use their ultimate talents to spread despair in unique ways, from building weapons of mass destruction, aiding other subsidiary groups of despair, to tyrannical takeovers of certain parts of the world.

Anyways, Makoto manages to rehabilitate them in SDR2, and its a happily ever after for them as reformed, wanted dead or alive war criminals <3 But, a lot of what they did, with the exception of Nagito, is left up in the air for us fans to theorize about.

Speaking of Nagito, let's talk about Servant first. Nagito basically became a single father as a Remnant. As Servant, Nagito's job is to watch over and aid the Warriors of Hope, consisting of Masaru Daimon, Jataro Kemuri, Kotoko Utsugi, Nagisa Shingetsu, and Monaca Towa. He's the only Remnant that we really get to see in action, being a pivotal character in Ultra Despair Girls.

Nagito is unique from the rest of the Remnants in many ways. He's not expressly violent like many of them are, preferring to be more manipulative in his methods. Despite his title, he pulls the strings of a lot of things that happen in UDG. When he's not making milkshakes for those tyrannical little gremlins, or being outed by Kurokuma, he's blackmailing and kidnapping members of the Future Foundation, like Toko and Byakuya respectively. He's tricking the kids, working under the guise of being subservient to them and their want to create a paradise for children, instead working with Monaca to bring about Junko's successor.

He also has a very strange relationship when it comes to Junko. While a lot of the others seem to view her as their leader, he hates her with every ounce of his being. That's the entire reason he's working to bring a form of her back after her death. The idea of her being alive once again causes him intense despair. He even says that he's jealous of Makoto, because he wanted to be the one to kill Junko himself. He despises her for turning everyone away from hope, including himself. But, he also still seems to have some kind of twisted appreciation for her as well, stating that she's the woman he loves and hates the most. After the plan to create Junko's successor falls through in UDG, he decides to raise Monaca to be Junko's successor herself, stating that because he loves and hates her so much, he can recreate her perfectly.

Nagito's also one of the three Remnants who actually scavenged from Junko's dead body, the other two being Mikan and Fuyuhiko. Nagito took Junko's arm, replacing his own with it. Looking at it causes him despair, since now she's stuck as a part of him. It's unclear what else he did, but we know he was just as, if not more, overzealous about it as he is about hope. It's his maniacal nature that manages to turn Monaca off from despair in the anime, saying that she'd rather not end up as crazy as him. For a character who was so determined to usher in a new era of despair, the fact that Nagito was too crazy even for her, speaks volumes. Don't worry, these other sections won't be as long, since there's not much info about them besides fanon.

Next up, Kazuichi Souda. The only bit of real content we get of him is a small compilation in one of the episodes, showing him working on a large Monokuma robot. This Monokuma robot was featured in the end of Ultra Despair Girls, nicknamed 'Big Bang Monokuma' by everyone's LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER, Haiji Towa. Haiji is nasty, and if you like him, he's one of the characters I CANNOT see why you'd like him. Haiji likers, DNI.

Anyways, aside from working on Big Bang Monokuma, it can also be inferred that he would go out with weapons and either supply or fire them in crowded areas. After all, there's only one character we know of who would match the dude in the beanie.

I personally believe that Kazuichi was mainly responsible for two major things. The different Monokumas that can be found around Towa City, such as Ball and Junk Monokuma, and the executions from THH.

My biggest piece of evidence for that above claim, comes from Kazuichi's free time events, where he says that he wants to build the fastest motorcycle ever, even though he'd be too scared to ride it. Aside from being the only character in this lineup(apart from Izuru) who could feasibly make the executions, Mondo dies from a motorcycle that can go fast enough to liquify him.

Also, I think that each Remnant went against their personal life goals mentioned in the final episode of despair arc, to create maximum despair. They are asked to state what they want to do with their lives, and they say things like "solve all diseases", "create peace treaties", "increase animal welfare" etc. Kazuichi says that his personal goal is to eliminate all pollution from the atmosphere, so I think he'd be responsible for polluting the air even more, dumping oil in the seas. He is the reason the sky is red, and why Hope's Peak needs an air purifier for the participants in that game. Poor guy, when he's not simping for Sonia, he seems like an actually pretty chill person to be around, especially in those final episodes.

Speaking of Sonia's simps, next is Gundham. We see him in that compilation, surrounded by all sorts of animals. Snakes, elephants, giraffes, you name it. Though, notably, the Four Dark Devas/Twelve Zodiac Generals (all hamsters, the devas are part of the twelve), are absent from the line up.

It can be deduced that Gundham released dangerous animals from zoos and sanctuaries, letting them run amok through major cities. He managed to rally the animals together, training them to be very destructive, and ultimately uses them in battles against the Future Foundation.

Gundham doesn't have anything he sets out to do with his life, at least nothing he voices in the final episode, so maybe he wanted to create a safe place for animals to live happily, and weaponizing them would cause him despair.

To explain away the disappearance of his hamsters, I think he released them as a final act of humanity and care for them. I think he knew that he'd be mistreating all the animals he held dear, and he wanted to give the hamsters a chance to escape. ESPECIALLY if he's going to be having snakes and birds around them, that's a recipe for the hamsters to be eaten.

I feel very bad for Mikan. She was the first one that fell to Junko's influence, the first one to be rewritten in such a way. She even watches the video a second time, which means she's probably one of the most far gone.

Like Nagito, Mikan is one of the three Remnants who took a body part from Junko's corpse. She took her uterus, and replaced her own with it, in hope's of carrying on Junko's legacy. She's also the one who probably attached the arm to Nagito, and the eye to Fuyuhiko.

In the final episode, Mikan says she wants to create a miracle cure for all diseases. As such, I can see her poisoning medical supplies, much like the real-life Tylenol Murders. She would probably hurt those who are sick and weak, and quite possibly experimented on people. As a medical professional, she was probably responsible for making sure the Remnants who frequented active combat against the Future Foundation were healthy and in peak condition.

I've also seen some people say she probably worked on ways to brainwash people through chemicals, and likely used captured Future Foundation soldiers as test subjects.

Akane and Nekomaru are the fighters of the group. They go out, and their main job is to cause as much stress for the Future Foundation as humanly possible. They're both heavy hitters, and that'd definitely be a hard thing for the Future Foundation to beat.

Akane's goal for her life simply boiled down to eating her fill of food, while Nekomaru said he would support everyone's dreams. I think he may have acted as support for the other's plans, kind of freelance depending on which Remnant required his services at the time.

We know one of the Remnants starved themselves, I believe it was Akane. Food brought her joy, so to cause despair she limited herself. In the anime, she's seen with abs, but I think they were just scared of showing her ribs. It's honestly a wonder that she would be able to fight at all. She fights with everything she's got, running off of despair, spite and mania.

Fuyuhiko and Peko occupy a similar area as Akane and Nekomaru. In fact, I think Nekomaru and Akane probably partnered with or joined Fuyuhiko's group of soldiers. All four of them fight against the Future Foundation, keeping their field agents on their toes and actively fighting against any sort of helpful effort by them.

In the final episode, Fuyuhiko says that he and Peko will lead the people in the Kuzuryu Clan down the right path, since he doesn't want to keep perpetuating violence. He wants them to get good educations and lead good lives. Peko says that she'd never kill again. For Peko to be actively fighting in battles across Japan, means she's actively causing the pain she didn't want to. Peko wants to be seen as more approachable, so to be one of the main Remnants in charge of causing chaos must be awful for her. For Fuyuhiko to take a step back and use the people in his clan to cause despair, he's also violating his life goals, and his want to not be reliant on the Kuzuryu Clan. It's the same reason he wants a degree of separation between himself and Peko in SDR2. He doesn't want to be seen as weaker, and he doesn't want to use the people around him.

Imposter is definitely an enigma character. There isn't much information about them when they're not in disguise as either Byakuya or Ryota (who deserves his own post, what I have to say may be a hot take). You can infer though, that they're actually a very caring person. When they notice Ryota engaging in unhealthy behaviors, they make sure that he eats and sleeps when required, and assumes his identity to give him a break. You can also see it in-game, where the more you hang out with them, the less they act like Byakuya, and more like a kind leader figure. Personally, I call Imposter Touya, since it sounds like a combo of "Two" and "Byakuya", and people already call them Twogami. It also means ''all the more, increasingly'' like their talent.

In the final episode, they aren't in disguise as anyone, and they say that they could become anyone they want, including the president. There's a strong desire within them to become their own person, to be seen for who they are, and not as the person they're impersonating.

It's intriguing, as in Remnant form, they're dressed like Byakuya. I think that Touya assumes the identities of various important figures in society, and infiltrates certain organizations whilst doing so. Since they're currently acting as Byakuya, I think Touya has infiltrated what's left of Togami Corporation, and is working to destroy their reputation. Maybe after Byakuya joins the Future Foundation, Touya tries to make it look like he's betraying them during different missions. Maybe that's why he's never out in the field unless it's absolutely necessary.

Teruteru Hanamura. I think there's a consensus on what we all agree he did while under despair. In the final episode, he says that he will feed everyone tons of nutritious food, and end world hunger. On top of that, he's someone who values his family a lot, especially his mother and siblings.

Teruteru is implied to use drugs in his food to make it taste better. It's an already disturbing theme with the food-oriented ultimates, with Ruruka using Seiko (the Ultimate Pharmacist) to enhance her sweets. In Teruteru's free time events, he feeds Hajime a simple rice ball, and Hajime leaves that interaction feeling like he's been drugged from how drowsy he is. Teruteru also keeps drugs around his food normally, evidence being the infamous soup scene. He may have poisoned his food, or used certain drugs to manipulate people to do bad things while in a weakened state of mind.

There's also an almost mutual agreement that I've seen in the fanbase, that he possibly turned his family into food. For how much he values them, I could definitely see that happening as a possibility, and it's such a terrible thought. For the life of me, I hope that isn't the case, and that Teruteru's mom and siblings are still out there in the world, ready to reunite with him once things have cooled down.

I've lumped Sonia and Mahiru together because this is the only picture of Mahiru as a Remnant. Anyways, starting with Mahiru, I think she traveled across the world, taking pictures of all the destruction and carnage as a result of the Tragedy. She likely also blackmailed high ranking officials and celebrities, bringing them under the thumb of Ultimate Despair and granting them more power over the general population.

In her free time events, Mahiru states that her mother was a war photographer. Her mom would go to scenes of destruction, take pictures, and sell them to news outlets. Mahiru says that, while she respects her mother, she doesn't want to take pictures of war. She wants to capture people's smiles and happy scenes of people living their lives. Going around and taking those sorts of pictures amidst the worst event in human history would definitely cause Mahiru despair. That can be seen in the picture as well, taking pictures of Sonia, likely declaring war or commencing public executions in her kingdom of Novoselic.

At the end of the final episode, Sonia says that she wants to make Novoselic into a peaceful kingdom, one with no wars. Once she becomes a Remnant, she forces her people to commit mass suicide, declares war on nearby countries, and executes people in her own country, supposedly including her parents so she may have sole power. The people who do not die in her initial takeover are likely added to the Novoselic army, serving under her and for her every whim. For someone who wanted to be seen as an equal by her peers, and not treated differently for her status, I can see her feeling very upset with herself knowing that she ruled her kingdom with tyranny and terror, and made people treat her as such a higher power.

Next is the girl group duo, Ibuki and Hiyoko. I think their combined abilities probably made the other's very potent, and its an interesting team-up. They aren't shown doing anything too bad, merely putting on an evil concert.

In the final episode, Ibuki says she wants to use her music to spread happiness, while Hiyoko says she wants to use dance to spread joy.

I don't really know what they would've done to spread despair. Maybe Hiyoko hit the griddy and it made people very upset. In actuality, I believe that Hiyoko probably employed methods similar to snake charmers, and managed to work in some form of hypnosis into her performances. That would be able to turn the masses against one another, and against other people.

Ibuki, on the other hand, definitely worked subliminal messages into her music, causing people to perform certain actions or think certain things for despair. Swifties but evil. Her music was probably also engineered to cause the most discomfort, with screeching guitar riffs and loud drums. Headaches and injuries would be prevalent at their concerts. I can also see Ibuki just smashing her guitar and wielding it as a weapon if facing off against Future Foundation members.

You can even hear a sample of her music on Spotify, since in the final episode of the anime, the rehabilitated Remnants go to help the trapped Future Foundation members, and she plays a song to incapacitate the brainwashed Future Foundation members. Listen if you dare!

It's finally time to talk about my BOY! I want to save some of my thoughts for his own post, and I honestly think this post is getting very long. For context, I started writing at 3pm, and it's now 10pm. Granted, I watched a movie and did some homework, but that's not the point here. I don't classify Izuru as a Remnant of Despair. I know he is one, but his circumstances are different. To understand Izuru, we need to start with Hajime.

Hajime starts the series as a reserve course student, someone with no talent, yet he idolizes Hope's Peak. He wants to be an ultimate so badly, that he'd do almost anything to do so. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to other people around him, basing his self-worth against theirs. So, in a school full of exceptional people, he's at an all time low. He has no friends, and feels like his goal is out of his reach. For as much as he wants to be an ultimate, we never get an idea of what he wants his ultimate to be. He has no plans for what it is, all he knows is he wants one. To feel important. To feel special. Because he doesn't see himself as anyone of worth.

He is approached by a group called the Steering Committee, which Tengan is loosely involved with. They propose the Kamukura Project to him, which is meant to give him a talent. He obviously really like this idea, but the idea of getting a talent artificially rubs him the wrong way. It's unknown if his parents know what's been proposed to him. One day, thinking by the fountain, he meets Chiaki, and they quickly become friends, bonding over video games. After that, they meet up regularly to game and talk by the fountain. One day, Fuyuhiko's little sister, Natsumi, ends up in his class, and he briefly meets her. Towards the end of the day, he finds her crying by herself, saying that she wants to be seen as the Ultimate Little Sister because Fuyuhiko only deserves the best in his life. Hajime starts to apply this to his friendship with Chiaki, believing he's not worthy of being her friend.

Still, he tries to keep his chin up and not let it bother him. He's hard-headed and hasn't been broken down yet. That's shattered when he tries to go to the ultimates course building for an important question (WATCH THE ANIME) and he gets beat up by Juzo. That very day, he meets with Chiaki, tells her to make tons of memories and have lots of fun for him, and then on, they never see each other again.

He accepts the Kamukura Project, and they begin at once. In the anime, it's done as a very quick procedure, but in real life, it'd be months and months of surgeries, mental conditioning, and medical tests. Soon, Hajime is completely erased from his mind, and is replaced by a figurative blank slate they name Izuru Kamukura. Interestingly, they call him Izuru Kamukura 1.0, implying there were supposed to be more after him. He was essentially a beta test, one that likely wasn't meant to make it this far. They likely expected him to die from the experimental procedures.

He is left on his own for days on end, until eventually Junko finds out about him. Her and Mukuro go to his little room, and try to get him to join despair. He initially declines, not seeing the purpose behind doing so. They invite him to the student council killing game, and there he feels some semblance of an emotion, so he continues. He is there, lurking in the background for many subsequent scenes.

The scene that is most important is Chiaki's death. She dies slowly in that scene, and Izuru is there, watching her. She recognizes him, reaching out towards him because he was her friend. At her death, he finds himself actually feeling something.

He's crying. Something he didn't think was possible. It is unknown if Hajime's repressed pain and despair was so powerful that it was finally felt in this moment, or if Izuru was just intrigued and confused by the idea of someone using their last moments to reach out to him. Nevertheless, he sticks with Junko's plans for despair, and is the reason she even ends up in SDR2. He's still effected by Chiaki's death long after this scene, expressing what can be confused for anger at the end of UDG when Junko starts to mock the way she'd greet him. He rips the wiring out of Shirokuma and Kurokuma's heads, taking only what he needs for the plan.

Izuru wasn't brainwashed, at least, not by Junko. The Kamukura Project deserves it's own post, but here's the rundown. He is supposed to be the Ultimate Everything, in peak physical and mental form. The surgeries needed to give him the strength capacity for the athletic ultimates would've involved breaking every bone in his body and rebuilding him from there, strengthening him enough to be able to launch Mukuro across the room with a flick of his hand. He would be injected with a cocktail of chemicals, made to increase mental abilities like memory, and possibly growth hormones for certain aspects of his body. That would explain why his hair is so incredibly long and dark, and why his eyes are red.

On the mental front, yes, he'd undergo numerous brain surgeries. Likely around the hippocampus and amygdala, they'd sever connections related to his original identity, which would also damage his ability to feel. Your emotional receptors are in those areas, and maybe ruining those sections were by design. After all, Hope's Peak is shady, and maybe they were trying to create some kind of unfeeling superweapon. Theory for another day. They left him near emotionless, with all the logical processing needed to complete any task needed, like a robot. They left him purposeless, craving entertainment of any kind. This makes him easier to use, easier to employ as a tool. If he is lacking purpose, he'd do anything you ask in order to feel anything other than emptiness. This is something Junko appeals to, since despair would be unpredictable and exciting for him.

I think he grows bored quickly, since after a while, anarchy becomes its own kind of order. There is still humanity in Izuru, he holds onto Chiaki's hairpin, and when Makoto finds him, he's nurturing a flower.

This scene is part of the reason why Makoto believes the Remnants are able to be saved. An unfeeling, despair-ridden monster wouldn't take the time to be so kind to something as small as a flower.

This scene is so moving when you watch it.

I think as a "Remnant", Izuru was merely an observer. I don't think he did anything except watch, only intervening when he felt it'd provide him some entertainment. Once he got bored, and only had Junko's USB stick plan, he'd probably find some way to make it easier for Makoto get everyone together, if only to enact that plan for that final bit of entertainment.

Is it obvious that I love Izuru?

Original Creator: Jayce Jole on YouTube

I spent a while learning psychology, and it's always been a big interest for me. Like with the factors pertaining to Izuru, the Remnants also have unique traits that explain why they act the way they act.

They were brainwashed by the subliminal messages that Ryota and Junko had placed in the video, that's why they're so deep in despair. But what is brainwashing? Brainwashing is a form of mental conditioning, that can essentially reprogram the mind to adopt radically different beliefs, ideas, and morals to the ones already carried by the victim. Brainwashing is not mind control, but it's conditioning.

They had their morals completely rewritten to align with Junko and despair. That's part of the reason I think Nagito is as different as he is. I think hope was such an engrained value within him, that he still holds onto despite his despair. The mental reprogramming is in constant conflict with his closely held beliefs.

There are many real examples of brainwashing, most notably within cults and real-life criminal organizations. They take advantage of vulnerable people, and make them change everything about themselves to align with these new ideas. Junko took advantage of their grief over seeing Chiaki die so gruesomely, and changed them fundamentally. They are not inherently evil people, they were not mind controlled into being evil people. They are people who were taken advantage of and conditioned into going against who they were. It's so saddening, they're teenagers, teenagers who should be going into job fields and colleges and living their lives, instead of terrorizing the world. Grief is a powerful, yet human emotion, and it's one that was easily controlled and manipulated by Junko. That's why Makoto took a chance on them as well. He didn't see the terrible people they had been turned into, he saw the hurt, grieving people underneath and wanted to help them.

It's also sickening how Junko only did all this so the Tragedy would carry on while she was masterminding the Hope's Peak killing game. The Remnants are nothing more than a backup plan to her, people she views as "not useful". They only exist to keep spreading despair while she is away, and that's sickening. She brainwashed them and not her own class, BECAUSE she doesn't value the Remnants. She cared about her classmates, so she wanted to feel the despair of watching them suffer. She merely saw the Remnants as tools, ruined their lives just for her own benefit.

I think there could have been an entire anime arc about them. Show Makoto, or Ryota, or some other character trying to rehabilitate them. How did they manage to track them down, and bring them to Jabberwock Island without dying or being discovered by the Future Foundation? How did they manage to stabilize them enough mentally to enter the Neo World Program? How did Izuru manage to get that USB stick past whoever was helping them? What were they like after waking up from the NWP with all their progress erased? If the survivors were normal, how did they handle seeing their friends in such a state? What impact did they do to the world? They could provide a clearer image of the Tragedy itself, which isn't really explored past Towa City, and even Towa City has only just recently been affected by the Tragedy. I think there's so much to explore, and so little attention actually given to them.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME YOUR ART, YOUR HEADCANONS, YOUR FICS, YOUR CONFESSIONS, YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF THE REMNANTS! I WILL EAT THEM UP LIKE I AM STARVED! I WILL SUP FROM THE WELL OF FANON AS IF IT IS THE FIRST DRINK OF WATER I'VE HAD IN DECADES! I NEED TO CONSUME EVERY BIT OF MEDIA ABOUT THEM!

I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal-

Anyways, after Dangantober is over, I may introduce my Danganronpa OC to this blog (not as a roleplay thing, but just to yap about him). Mainly, he's a former classmate of theirs, and he's part of their rehabilitation process because I NEED to chew on it like I'm teething.

Here is an edit I made of Chisa Yukizome, and the Remnants (it's short, it was my first one), to a Miss Delight edit audio. Please enjoy it, I was so proud when I finished it <3

Is it obvious now just how much I love the Remnants? They NEEDED more screentime, I'm not kidding on that front. Imagine everything that could've been explored, how much of their actions was the brainwashing, and how much was them acting out in twisted grief?

What did each person do while under despair? Was any guilt felt? How did they react after being rehabilitated? How are they living now with the knowledge of what they've done?

They were just grieving kids, kids who were taken advantage of and used for evil purposes. But I also agree that the Remnants are not blameless in their actions. They must live with this guilt forever, constantly on the run for what they've done, and yet, they have each other.

When I found out that UDG was SUPPOSED to be about facing the Remnants of Despair as either Makoto or Komaru, before it was changed to be the WOH, I was UPSET! Someone, PLEASE MAKE THAT A REAL GAME, I'D PAY YOU EVERYTHING IN MY WALLET AND BANK ACCOUNTS!

Make merch of the Remnants, all of them, not just the Servant pop-up parade and Izuru plushie.

[theblackfemininesociety]

B.F.S Spring Lookbook:

Hey Besties! Spring vibes are hitting different this year, and The Black Feminine Society is all about that fresh, fly wardrobe reset. We're mixing up the style game with our latest Spring Lookbook: Classy Elevated Casual. It's where comfort meets chic, and where every Black woman can find her vibe and flaunt it. Let's get into the trends that are about to dominate your Insta profiles.

Say Bye to Basics: Flowy Pants & Trousers Takeover

Leggings and sweatpants, step aside. 2023 is all about those breezy, flowy pants and trousers that scream "I woke up like this" elegance. Picture yourself in airy wide-legs that catch the breeze or statement prints that pop for that perfect OOTD post. Pair 'em with a snug tank or an oversized tee, and you've got that effortlessly cool look down.

Shorts + Blazers & Button-Ups = Game Changer

Rethink everything you knew about shorts. This spring, we’re elevating this staple with sleek blazers and sharp button-ups for that ultimate power move. It’s about creating a look that’s as ready for a café hangout as it is for that Zoom call. Aim for high-waist picks and get playful with textures and prints to really stand out.

Long Pleated Skirts: A Must Have !

The long pleated skirt is having its moment and it's not hard to see why. These beauties add a level of sophistication and fun to any look, swaying with you with every step. Dress them up with a fitted top for that silhouette-snatching effect or go casual with a simple tucked-in tee. Pleated skirts are all about versatility and statement-making this season

Maxi Dresses: The Ultimate Classy Flex

Maxi dresses are here to claim their throne as the go-to for that flawless transition from day to night. We're talking flowy fabrics that feel like a second skin, patterns that demand attention, and cuts that flatter every body type. Whether you're channeling beach goddess vibes or city chic, a maxi dress is your secret weapon.

Accessorize to Maximize

The right accessories can take your outfit from 0 to 100 real quick. This spring, it's all about making statements with bold jewelry, killer shades, and bags that pack a punch. Think of accessories as the exclamation point to your outfit – they're there to make your look pop and show off your unique style. So, layer up those necklaces, stack those bracelets, grab your cutest silk scarf and let your personality speak through your fashion style this season!

Spring 2023 is calling, and it's all about embracing that Classy Elevated Casual aesthetic. You're B.F.F, The Black Feminine Society is here to inspire you to mix it up, try new combos, and own your style with confidence. Remember, it's not just about the clothes; it's about how you wear them. So let's make this season about expressing your femininity in the most authentic, trend-setting ways. Let's do this, Spring!

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[rwac96]

Science, The Greatest Weapon (Sonic x Transformers Crossover)

"Can you hear me?" Doctor Ivo Robotnik says to the specimen, sporting an eerie, wide grin. "I know you can hear me. You're not my first UFO, and from what I discovered from your amazing mind, you certainly won't be the last."

The rotund, mustached scientist cackled as he sat in his chair, his gaze focused on the subject before him. Ivo was a roboticist; he presented it well through his creations, even if the people reviled them. Even if they're destroyed by that accursed blue hedgehog. Robotnik stroked his greying, auburn mustache, chuckling lowly. Not too long ago, after the Star Fall Isles incident, one of his Badniks alerted him to an intriguing discovery in the outskirts of Holoska. Using a squadron of Badniks, led by Metal Sonic, he had the specimen teleported to one of the undiscovered bunkers he had on Earth. For weeks, he had attempted to get his discovery to share what he knew, but he refused. Robotnik was met with threats of violence and vows to 'burn down this miserable mudball'. From his past experiences with aliens, they prove to have no manners.

"During each of our sessions, you proved to be quite the unruly and volatile subject," Ivo says, separating his gloved hands from one another, reaching for one of the square buttons on his red & white coat.

"I was trying to be polite. After all, it's not every day that my Badniks discover a true Living Machine. After every session, I reviewed my findings and compared them to my technology. I must admit, from the scattered bits of data I got from your head, your people are more advanced than I. I am quite thankful I found a fun way to rip out those secrets from your soul."

With the press of a button, Robotnik's specimen yelled in complete pain and agony as volts of electricity coursed through its very being. One of its red eyes widened, its mouth opening, revealing teeth. The prisoner jolted upward as the obese doctor cackled with glee. Then, Ivo moves his finger from the button, shutting down the electricity, causing the subject to hang its head low once more.

"Your sacrifice has shown me there are other energy signatures that have arrived on Earth," Robotnik said with glee, turning his chair to the images on his monitors: robotic warriors battling each other. "Similar to yours. My Badniks will track them down, and I will learn about this energy that fuels you."

Ivo rises from his seat, approaches his computer, and retrieves a small, glowing, cyan cube. The mustached terrorist picks up the substance, placing it in a lead-lined suitcase. "It doesn't merely power technology," Robotnik observes, gazing down at the cube with wonder, his brilliant and twisted mind thinking of means to wield this 'Energon'. "It transforms it."

"I am on the verge of unlocking its secrets." Ivo closed the suitcase, shifting his gaze back to the subject, "When I successfully do, I will use it on my machines, elevating them to grand heights." He laughed, lifting up the suitcase and turning away from his prisoner.

"I must thank you, Specimen," Robotnik said, beginning his trek toward the large double doors. "With your sacrifice, the Eggman Empire will be unstoppable. I will lead a new and more powerful takeover, and no force on Earth, or any other world," he turns one last time to the armless subject, "will be able to stop me." He turns his head back to his path and resumes walking. "Not even that annoying blue rodent Sonic will be able to stand against me this time."

Doctor Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik cackled loudly as he exited the large lab, planning to use this new energy source to fuel his army, to take over the world once more, and to kill his sworn enemy, Sonic the Hedgehog.

---

As the large doors shut, Megatron stayed silent, even after what felt like the twentieth or twenty-first electric shock he had endured from this Robotnik insect. Even as the obese cretin dug around his mind with his primitive drones, his thoughts were occupied with revenge. Revenge against Optimus Prime, revenge against the traitorous Starscream whose assassination attempt had led him to land on this rock and held prisoner. He thought of vengeance against the mustache fool who sought to use their precious Energon in his grandeur of delusion. From the latest 'conversation' Megatron endured with the power-hungry wretch, it seemed more Cybertronians had arrived here, most likely his warriors- and his hated enemies. It seems his imprisonment will not last forever, should his more loyal soldiers find him or he finds one slip up in the fool's defenses.

"Starscream," Megatron said with hatred, "Optimus Prime, Robotnik, I shall be avenged."

Megatron's memory processor, though violated by the rotund lunatic, was flooded with flashes of the previous battle before his current predicament. Leading his Decepticons on an assault upon the Human-Made Collider, the hated Autobots arriving and battling to defend the fleshlings, he and Optimus colliding again, and he close to snuffing out Prime's spark once and for all. But, that damnable Energon Axe, he chopped off his fusion cannon arm, kicking him towards the portal, which grew unstable. Before the flash of light, he saw the duplicitous Starscream, aiming his null ray cannon at his face.

When he gets free of this prison, retribution shall come to them all. Starscream, the traitor, will be severely and brutally punished. Robotnik, the fleshing who held him prisoner, he will personally see to his death. Lastly, Optimus Prime, Megatron will slay his precious Autobots and then cut down his hated enemy.

"I shall rise again."

[starsfic]

Missing Meeting

Summary: Frankie's missing a meeting to throw stuff at the Contestant.

Notes: Introducing my first workplace comedy OC, Maddy Faustina! Her name was randomly generated. She's Frankie's secretary.

-_-

Maddy Faustina was a simple woman.

She liked knowing what was going on and how it affected the schedule. Having her boss overthrown by a cartoon AI that had the attitude of an angry, sadistic toddler and the following death games had thrown her life off-balance, but, strangely, things didn't change much for her personally in her work life at Frankie's. Mr. Ellie looked like a wreck at every staff meeting, but considering his arrogant personality before, it was a nice change. Hey, they were even doing good for the first time in a while!

"Uh, Miss Faustina? Do you happen to know where Frankie is?" Mr. Ellie had poked his head out of the small side office he had been booted to after the takeover. "We were supposed to have a meeting fifteen minutes ago."

"Huh, that's strange." For all her complaints about Frankie's attitude and overall hatred of humanity, he was at least punctual. "I'm afraid I haven't seen him, Mr. Ellie."

He frowned, the nerves disappearing from his face. "I wonder if he's at the parkour palace. Call them up."

Several questions popped up. The first one was there's working phones there? She knew that there was toy phones in Henry Hotline's section, but an actual phone? "Uh...may I ask what he would be doing over there?"

Mr. Ellie shrugged as he retreated back into his office. "Throwing stuff at the Contestant, most likely."

Ah. Right. The reason why they weren't going bankrupt was also the thorn on Frankie's side. Maddy wasn't exactly sure why they were such a big thorn, but Maddy wasn't paid to dwell on that.

It took a few minutes to hunt down the number. Maddy typed it in and waited as it rang...and it rang...and it rang...

"Hello, this is Frankie's Parkour Palace, the largest indoor trampoline, water, and parkour park! How may I help you?"

It took her a second to realize that the voice wasn't a recording of her boss talking. To be fair, not many people had known about "Real" Frankie until the 57th season. "Um, hello? This is Maddy Faustina from the main corporate building. I was wondering if Mr. Frankie is there? He's late for a meeting with Mr. Ellie."

There was a pause and then there was a faintly muffled "I knew things had been too quiet." Before she could ask him to speak up, the cheerful, bordering on maniac, voice grew louder. "Apologies! I believe he's here, but I'm not quite sure where...ah!" There was a pause and then a sigh. "They're throwing stuff at each other...please give me a moment. Unfortunately, the intercom has not been installed in that space, so I will have to take you directly to him!"

"No worries," Maddy said, unsure of what else to say. She didn't expect Mr. Ellie's guess to be literal.

There was a long silence, filled with the sounds of shuffling and an elevator. Faint music soon met her ears, and then louder noises.

Swooshing. Faint growling. A loud cackle, followed by a BANG that made her jump.

"Is everyone alright?" she called.

"Oh, everyone is perfectly fine, our dear contestants are just playing a little rough." The "Real" Frankie assured her before pulling away from the phone. "EXCUSE ME! There's a call for you!"

The noises paused, followed by talking that was too hushed to make out before a similarly cheerfully maniac voice spoke, echoing off whatever room they were in. "Hellooo, Miss Faustina! How can I help you?"

"Uh, Mr. Ellie requested that I call since you are running late for you two's three o'clock meeting."

There was a chuckle. "Oh dear," Frankie said, not even bothering to hide the delight in his voice. "I'm so sorry! I'll buzz over right now since he's so concerned. Thank you, my dear, you're such a doll!"

"...You're welcome?"

The other side went silent and in the office next door, there was a screech. There was some more shuffling on the other side of the call and a voice she did not recognize spoke. "Uh, he left. Hope you have a good day?"

Oh. This must be...

"You too." Maddy hung up and sat there for a second, staring at the email she had been drafting.

She wondered if the Contestant would be interested in joining the employee game nights.